


Mission Objective

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sunspot’s weaknesses are turned into a strength.</p><p>(Because I've been asked before: Sunspot is a toy-only canon character, and he's so damned adorable <3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Objective

“One mission objective,” Sunspot sang to himself as he soared through the clouds in jet mode. “Just one mission objective.” It was essentially a tuneless song, but it had entertained him for the last five breems. It kept his mind on the job, which was a good thing, because his mind had a habit of…

“ _One_ mission objective,” he reminded himself, and felt a burst of pride at having got that far. He didn’t have to remember the objective itself, Blackout had very helpfully written it on his arm, ready to be revealed when he came in to land. And he didn’t have to remember the coordinates, because Grindor re-sent them to him every five astroseconds.

He just had to remember that he _had_ a mission objective. Then get to the coordinates, transform, read the instructions on his arm, and carry out whatever oh wow that cloud looked like Commander Starscream! Like, _really_ like Starscream. Sunspot changed course, heading straight towards it, but at his velocity and clouds being what they were, it soon lost its resemblance.

But that was OK, because Grindor had sent him something. Numbers. All in a line. Sunspot read them out, turning them into a song as he dove back into the cloud bank, enjoying the feel of the water vapour condensing on his wings.

The digits appeared again, the same sequence, the same origin. Numbers, flying, co-ordinates, destination; the associations lined up in Sunspot’s mind, all leading him back to one incredibly important idea: _mission objective_.

“One mission objective!” He began his first song again and re-set his trajectory; scrap, he was doing well today! A line of script flashed in his HUD: ‘ETA, two hundred astroseconds’.

He performed all the prompted checks and scanned the terrain, still singing his song. Buildings, concrete, some trees. And people, lots of people; mechs as well as the tiny squishy things that sometimes got between his toes. They seemed to be busy, running around and fetching things, a few of them looking up at the sky, gesturing at him.

Sunspot came in to land, hardly noticing the guns all pointed in his direction. He transformed, momentarily confused, until a splash of colour distracted him. Paint on his arm, but it wasn’t _his_ paint. That’s right, Blackout! His one mission objective.

 _Distract them._

He raised his head, only then noticing the Autobot symbols that seemed to be stamped onto everything. He’d done it again, hadn’t he? Allowed his mind to wander and flown straight into an ambush.

But no, the writing on his arm… Blackout had meant for this to happen. And Grindor. And because Grindor was the tactical guy, that made it all OK, right? He was _meant_ to have flown into an ambush.

Trilling with the pleasure of having got something right, Sunspot gave the assembled Autobots a friendly wave.

Distract them? He could do that.


End file.
